GB Plus Me Part 2: Back In the Saddle
by Catietheawesome
Summary: Jennifer and the Ghostbusters were forced to break up five years ago. But now, they're back.
1. Blackout

**Part 2, here it is!**

**Didn't do a disclaimer last time, so I figured I'd fix that. Here goes: I, Redcatie7 do not own any of the following characters except for Jennifer, Alex, and Mrs. Colby. (And Mrs. Shapiro, but nobody gives a crap about her.)**

* * *

I sighed as I stepped into the cab. Rehearsal had run late that day. Whoopee. It was so late, I wouldn't even have time to visit Ray at the bookstore.

A lot had changed in the past five years; namely, me.

_If there's somethin' strange in ya neighborhood, who ya gonna call?_

I gritted my teeth. That song had made me happy in the good old days, but now it just made me sad. And angry at those goons who had decided to sue us for saving the city.

_Watch it, Jennifer. You've been listening to Ray too much._

"Could you turn that off please?" I asked the cabbie.

* * *

As I walked into my apartment, everything went pitch black. "What the hell?" I muttered to myself. "Oh great!"

I stomped over to the phone blindly. I was worried about my boys. I picked up the receiver and listened. No dial tone. "Fabulous," I grumbled.

I heard a tentative knock on my door. I opened it to see that it was Mrs. Shapiro, my neighbor, a little old lady with knobby knees and an overly sweet smile. "Oh, hi, Mrs. S. Can I help you?"

"Oh good, you're here. I wouldn't want to be out on the street tonight!" She smiled. "I was just worried about you, dear. Are you alright?"

I smiled back, touched that the old bird cared. "I'm okay. I think I'm just going to turn in early; it's been kind of a long day."

Mrs. Shapiro nodded, as if she understood. "Alright. Good night."

I did go to bed after my neighbor left. I just didn't sleep. Instead, I just tossed and turned, worrying about my friends. How were they faring in this blackout?

I laughed to myself. Egon, I thought, was probably taking valences at the power plant right about now. Or he was going out of his mind because he couldn't read his PKE meter in the dark. He tended to think everything was related to the paranormal.

Egon was now studying human feelings or something. Ray, as I mentioned before, owned a bookstore, specializing in occult literature.

"What else?" I had joked when Ray had opened the store.

Peter now hosted his own talk show for psychics. I really only watched it because nobody else did. He and Dana broke up and Dana married some violinist, whom she recently divorced. They even had a kid too, a little boy named Oscar. And Winston had a steady job as a general contractor. I was happy for him because I knew he was working in a field that he loved, just like me.

After the breakup of Ghostbusters, I had switched my minor from parapsychology to music, thanks to a recommendation from Dana Barrett. Ray and Egon had been a little disappointed, but they had understood.

Studying parapsychology had been too painful for me after we got shut down. Plus, it just wasn't any fun studying under someone who wasn't Peter, Ray or Egon.

I turned my thoughts to Alex. He was probably still at the museum, burning the midnight oil. Ever since he was promoted to head curator of the Metropolitan, he didn't have much time left over me.

Whatever. I was busy too these days with choir rehearsals and all my classes. _Thank God I'm graduating soon._

As much as I wanted to be a professional musician, I knew that it wasn't likely to happen. So I decided to go with my original game plan: be a psychologist. They make good money, and the work's pretty easy; all you have to do is pretend to listen to some nut rant about their life.

Jesus, listen to me. I think I've been spending too much time with Venkman, which is something I try to avoid. Just kidding. Peter and I, despite our rocky start, were good friends now. We all were.

I could always count on Peter to cheer me up when I was blue. Winston understood me so well, it was scary. Egon listened to my problems and comforted me; even though I knew being in the presence of a female made him squirm. And Ray…well, he was my brother, plain and simple.

Truthfully, all these attributes could describe any of them. But when I thought of my friends' best qualities, those were what spoke loudest about them. Together, we had formed a dynamic team. But unfortunately, our outstanding friendship hadn't been enough to hold Ghostbusters together.

I groaned. I needed to get some shut eye and stop letting my thoughts depress me.

* * *

I woke up to the sound of the telephone ringing the next morning. I stumbled out of bed and grabbed the phone. "Hello?" I asked groggily, my sleep-worn brain barely registering the fact that the power was back on.

"Jennifer? It's Winston," the guy on the other end said.

I stifled a yawn. "Oh, hey. Did the power go off at your place too?"

"Actually, it was out on the whole island, but listen. The guys got arrested!"

That woke me up. "What?"

"I don't have to time to explain," said Winston. "Just meet us down at the courthouse in an hour."

I looked at the clock. 6:58. "This hour's not fit for man nor beast," I muttered. "Alright, Zedd. I'll be there."


	2. In Trouble Again

I marched into the courtroom. I spotted the guys and Dana over by the defendant's table.

I let out a sigh of relief. They were fine. But then I became angry. Why had they gotten arrested?

I stomped over to them. "Alright, what the hell happened? Why did you three bozos get arrested?" I paused. "Does this have anything to do with the blackout?"

"It's all my fault," said Dana. Apparently, she was worried as I was. "I asked them to help me."

I softened a little. "What happened?"

The guys told about how Dana's baby carriage had rolled out into traffic like it had a mind of its own. "Okay, that's weird. But I still don't understand why you guys got taken to jail."

"Well, we…we were digging a hole in the street where the buggy stopped," Ray admitted. "It was incredible, Jenny! 1118 on the PKE!"

I groaned. "Well, what happened next?"

Egon spoke up. "We lowered Ray into the hole-oomph!" Peter had elbowed him in the ribs. But it was too late. I'd heard, and my ire doubled.

"You did _what_?" I hissed.

"I'm fine. You don't have to worry about me," Ray assured me.

"Like hell I don't! You know you have claustrophobia!" I exclaimed. I rounded on Pete and Egon. "What were you two thinking?"

Peter sighed. "You better tell her the rest, Egghead. The worst is behind us."

Egon continued. "So the police showed up and Ray panicked. He hit a power line on his way back up and the whole city went dark."

"Is that everything?"

Egon and Ray nodded.

"Alright. The next time you guys decide to play Ghostbuster, you better call me. Or I'll kick your asses from here to kingdom come!" I threatened. "Understand?"

"We just wanted to protect you," said Egon quietly.

I sighed. "I appreciate that. But still, you should let me know…so I can talk you out of it! Just tell me next time, okay?"

The guys nodded. I took a seat behind Ray.

"We didn't even get to tell you the biggest news," said Ray excitedly. "When I was down there last night, I found-"

"Before we begin this trial, I want to make one thing very clear," The judge announced from his bench. He had a mean, old man, "I was a Marine in the second World War" look about him. "The law does not recognize the existence of ghosts, and I don't believe in them either. So I don't want to hear a bunch of malarkey about goblins, spooks, and demons. We're gonna stick to the facts in this case and leave the ghost stories to the kiddies, understood?"

"Sounds like a pretty open-minded guy," commented Winston.

"Yeah, cuddly as a cactus," I grumbled.

"They call him the 'Hammer'," added Egon.

"Well, what can we do?" said Ray with a shrug. "It's in the hands of our lawyer now."

I raised an eyebrow. "We have an attorney?" Then I looked up to see Louis Tully, the nerdy man we had saved from Gozer, coming our way with his arms loaded with books. "Oh no. No, no, no-"

Louis plopped down his books on the table. "I think you guys are making a big mistake. I do mostly tax law and some probate stuff occasionally," he said. "I got my law degree at night school."

"No!" I groaned, burying my face in my hands. Egon patted me on the shoulder.

"Well, that's fine, Louis," said Ray with false enthusiasm. "We got at arrested at night." He laid his head on the desk with a thump.

A man waltzed up to our desk. "Violating a judicial restraining order, willful destruction of public property, fraud, malicious mischief," he listed. "See you in a couple of years…at your first parole hearing." He smirked at Peter.

Peter chuckled. "You'll never take us alive."

I stood up and glared at the wiseass. "Who the hell are you?"

He shook my hand. "I'm Jack Hardemeyer, the mayor's assistant and a personal friend of Dr. Venkman here."

"Awful to meet you," I replied.

The judge banged his gavel. "Alright, alright, let's get on with it."

* * *

I watched Louis blunder through the case. The prosecutor for the other side, however, was as cool as a cucumber. We were so going to lose.

Louis stood in front of the court nervously. "Your Honor, ladies and gentlemen of the-of the audience," he stammered. "I don't it's fair to call my clients frauds. Okay, so the blackout was a big problem for everybody, okay? I was stuck in an elevator for two hours and I had to make the whole time. But I don't blame them, because one time I turned into a dog and they helped me. Thank you."

"Very good, Louis," said Egon as Louis sat down. "Short but pointless." I snorted, despite the anxiety of the situation.

A Con-Ed worker was called to the stand. "Mr. Fianella," said the opposing prosecutor, "please look at exhibits A through F ion the table over here." She gestured to a bunch of stuff on the evidence table I couldn't see because Ray's head was in the way. "Do you recognize this equipment?" Oh, it must have been the proton packs and stuff.

"Yeah," replied the Con-Ed man. "That's the stuff the cops took from their truck."

"Do you know what this equipment is used for?"

The Con-Ed man shrugged. "I don't know. Catching ghosts, maybe? I don't know."

The prosecutor turned to the audience. "May I remind the court that the defendants are under a judicial restraining order that strictly forbids them from performing services as paranormal investigators or eliminators."

"So noted," said Judge Wexler.

She nodded and marched over to the evidence table. "Now, Mr. Fianella, can you identify the substance in this jar marked 'Exhibit F'?"

She picked a large of beaker of translucent pink goo. "What is that?" I whispered to Egon.

"It's slime."

I gave him a look. "Egon, I've always admired your grasp of the obvious."

On the stand, Fianella was inspecting the jar. "Yeah, that's the stuff alright. Your Honor, I've been working underground for Con-Ed for 27 years. I never saw anything like this in my life. Whatever's down there, they," he pointed to Peter, Ray, and Egon, "must've put it there."

"No we didn't!" Ray exclaimed, standing up adamantly. Pete and Egon had to pull him back down. "Shut up!" yelled the judge, banging his gavel.

"For my next witness," squeaked Louis, "I'd like to call Jennifer Colby to the stand."

I gulped and got up. "Louis, I didn't see what happened," I whispered to him.

I was sworn in and I sat down in the box. "So, Ms. Colby, is it correct that you were previously employed by the defendants?" Louis asked me, trying to sound professional.

I was suddenly aware that every eye in the room was on me. "Yes, and they're also good friends of mine," I replied. "Just like family."

"Would you say that these men are frauds?"

I shook my head. "Of course not. I used to study parapsychology in college. In fact, they were my professors for awhile, before they were fired from the university. There's complete truth in what they do."

Louis nodded. "So you're saying that these men were justified in what they did."

"Well…I think so," I agreed. "It was stupid of them to violate the law," I gave them a look at this point, "but in their defense, they were only trying to help a friend and the community."

"Thank you," said Louis. "You are excused."

I let out a breath of relief.

The best moment we had was when Peter was on the stand. "Dr. Venkman, would you please tell the court why it is that you and your co-defendants take it upon yourselves to dig a very big hole in the middle of First Avenue?" asked the prosecutor.

"Well, there's so many holes in First Avenue, we really didn't think anyone would notice," Peter replied.

"Oh no," I groaned as a titter went through the courtroom.

The judge, apparently, didn't think it was so funny. He glared at Pete and said, "Keep that up mister, and I'll find you in contempt!"

Peter tried to look properly ashamed. "I'm truly sorry, your Honor."

"I'll ask you again, Dr. Venkman, why were you digging the hole? And please remember that you're under oath," said the prosecutor.

Peter looked out into the audience; I knew it was speech time. "There are some things in this world that go way beyond human understanding. Things that cannot be explained, things that most people don't wanna know about. That," he gestured to Ray, Egon, Winston, and me, "is where we come in."

The other four of us grinned at each other. "You tell 'em, Pete," I whispered.

"So what you're saying is that the world of the supernatural is your exclusive province?" the prosecutor rebutted.

"Kitten," replied Peter, "I think what I'm saying is: sometimes shit happens, someone has to deal with it, and who ya gonna call?"

I couldn't help myself. I led the courtroom in a cheer. "Shut up!" yelled the judge.

* * *

After what seemed like hours of questioning, Wexler finally prepared to make his verdict. "Peter Venkman, Raymond Stantz, Egon Spengler; stand up. C'mon, get up!" he shouted as the three hurried to rise. "Man, he really needs to take a chill pill," I whispered to Winston.

The judge cleared his throat. "I find you guilty on all charges."

"No!" I whispered.

"I order you to pay fines in the amount of $25,000 each," he continued, "and I sentence you to 18 months at the correctional facility at Riker's Island."

"Egie," I heard Ray whisper. "She's twitchin'!"

I looked over Ray's shoulder to discover that the jar of mysterious slime had bubbled a little. "What the-?" I muttered.

"I'M NOT FINISHED!" screeched the judge. The ooze bubbled up even more at the sound. "On a more personal note, let me just go on record that there's no place for fake charlatans-"

"Uh, your Honor," Egon interceded.

"Shut up!" yelled the judge. I felt a little anger run through me. There was no reason to yell at poor Egon like that.

The judge continued. "Or tricksters like you in decent society!"

Peter raised his hand. "Your Honor, this is important."

Wexler ignored him. "You play on the gullibility of innocent people-"

"Yes sir," Ray tried to direct his attention to the slime, which was now running over the sides of the jar, more and more at the judge's every word.

"Be quiet!"

"Why don't you?" I shrieked in frustration. The slime was literally bubbling right under Wexler's nose, and the idiot didn't even notice!

"If my hands weren't tied by the unalterable fetters of the law," the judge was screaming by this point, "then I would invoke the tradition of our illustrious forebears-"

Egon tugged at my sleeve. "Quick, hide under the table," he whispered. I nodded and ducked with the others.

"Reach back to a purer, sterner justice-"

"She's gonna blow!" shouted Peter.

"-and have you BURNED AT THE STAKE!" The judge concluded his rant. And as Peter had foretold, the slime exploded, emitting-what else?-a pair of ghosts.


	3. Back in Action

The ghosts were, like most ghosts, big, mean, and ugly. They were enormous gray guys, one skinny with long greasy hair and one burly with wild stringy hair. They each were strapped to electrocution chairs, and were giving off bolts of energy.

"Wow!" exclaimed Ray. I smiled in spite of the terrifying dilemma. Even after five years, Ray was still Ray.

The people in the courtroom were fleeing the scene. It was panic. Pretty soon, the only ones left were us (meaning Peter, Ray, Egon, Winston, Louis, and I), the female prosecutor, and the judge.

Speaking of the judge, he was staring in horror at the specters. He had gone completely pale .

The ghosts turned to him with evil smirks on their faces. "Oh my God! The Scoleri brothers!" the judge exclaimed.

He quickly jumped over the side of the stand, just in time to escape the ghosts lunging at him. He quickly crawled under the table with the rest of us. "The Scoleri brothers!" he exclaimed.

"Friends of yours?" called Ray over the roar of the wind that the Scoleris were generating in their ghostly antics.

"I tried them for murder! Gave them the chair!"

"You're that old?" I marveled.

Wexler ignored me. "You gotta do something!"

"Why don't you just tell them you don't believe in ghosts?" suggested Egon.

Suddenly the ghostly brothers pick up the table we were hiding under. We hurriedly picked ourselves up and ran for the door.

The judge frantically tried to open the door, but it was locked shut. He grabbed Ray by the shirt. "You gotta do something! Help me!" he pleaded.

Ray shrugged. "Don't talk to me, talk to my attorney." I hid a smile.

"And that's me!" exclaimed Louis. "My guys are still under a judicial restraining order! They could be exposing themselves!

"And you don't want us exposing ourselves!" added Peter with a sneaky grin.

"Nobody wants that, Peter," I said, rolling my eyes.

Suddenly, we heard a shrill scream. We watched in horror as one of the brothers carried out the female prosecutor by her leg. "Take that, bitch!" I called gleefully.

The judge groaned in terror and frustration, trying to decide what to do. "You're next, Bubbles," said Peter with a grin.

The judge had but one way out. "Alright! I rescind the order! Case dismissed!"

Louis and I began to cheer as Ray, Winston, and Egon shook hands and high-fived. Peter just stood there, smirking. "Now do something!" shouted the judge.

* * *

The five of us grabbed our old proton packs as the judge and Louis hid behind the partition. "Ugh," groaned Peter as he pulled on his pack. "I always hated this part of the business."

I shook my head. "Pete, you need to start working out."

It was strange. Even though the packs still weighed about sixty bazillion pounds, I felt my shoulders lose some weight.

"You know, it's been a couple years since years we used this stuff," said Peter. "I hope it still works."

I shuddered, thinking about what might happen if it didn't. "Now you tell me."

"It should," assured Egon, pulling out his neutrona wand. "The power cells have a half life of 5000 years."

"I think they'll be fine," I said.

"Well, there's no time for a bench test," said Ray. "Heat 'em up."

I looked over at Winston. "Just like the old days, eh, Winnie?"

He grinned. "Let's do this."

Peter turned on his wand. "_Do_," he sang.

Ray turned his on, too. "_Re_." He grinned.

Egon joined in. "Egon!"

I cracked up. "Nice pitch, fellas!"

Egon smirked at me. Then we took our stances, ready to battle the beasts.

We waited. Nothing was happening. "It's quiet," I said. "Too quiet."

Suddenly a chair fell over in the back. "Whoa!" exclaimed Ray.

Then, another chair fell over. And another, and another…

Suddenly the Scoleri brothers popped up, growling and snarling. "Ah!" I shrieked, fumbling for my wand. We fired.

The Scoleris floated away and disappeared. We looked wildly around the courtroom. "They're gone!" I shouted. "Come on out and fight like a ghost!"

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaah!" Peter let out a battle cry. Then he looked at the rest of us and for no reason at all, he began to chuckle.

"Pete?" I asked. This wasn't normal crazy for Peter. Then Ray started cackling too, and even Egon joined in. I shrugged and started to giggle myself.

Winston stared at us as if we were deranged. "You people okay?"

"We're Ghostbusters," I said. "Do you think we're okay?"

Suddenly, one of the ghosts burst through the wall. We snapped out of it and Peter fired at the monster.

"You got him, Venkman!" called Egon. "Hold him steady!"

Peter whooped and hollered as he chased the ugly thing with his stream. "Come on, big boy! I'm gonna take you home to my private zoo!"

Pete's stream managed to wrap itself around the ghost. "You got him!" exclaimed Ray. "You got him!" He looked over at Egon. "Spengy! Get the trap!"

Egon nodded and reached for the trap, when all of a sudden, the other ghost popped of the wall behind Ray. "Behind you, Ray!" Egon shouted.

"I got it!" I yelled as I fired at the ghoul. My stream grabbed the ghost, but I couldn't hold it by myself. The ghost was wriggling out of my grasp. "Winston, a little help, please?"

"On it!" Winston's stream shot out, joining mine in restraining the ghost.

"Yes!" I cheered. "We got it!"

"Hold him!" called Egon. "Venkman, start bringing him back!"

Peter dragged the ghost over to the trap. "Come on, chubby!"

"Okay, the trap's going in!" called Egon. "Get ready!"

"Hit it!" yelled Ray.

Egon stomped on the petal. The trap opened and we all looked away as the Scoleri brothers disappeared.

The trap chimed twice. We sauntered over.

"Two in the box!" squealed Ray.

"Ready to go!" added Egon.

"We be fast…" said Peter with a smirk.

"And they be slow!" I finished excitedly.

"How do we do it?" marveled Winston.

Louis came out of his hiding place and bent down to check out the trap. "Wow!" he whispered in amazement.

* * *

As we bust through the doors, people crowding them to really see if the Ghostbusters were in action, Peter announced importantly, "We're the best…we're the beautiful…we're the only…GHOSTBUSTERS!"

"We're back!" Ray and I cheered.


	4. Away in a Firehouse

A cloud of dust and other ominous particles hit me in the face as I kicked in the old, dilapidated green door. I looked inside and immediately wished I hadn't.

Peck's explosion certainly had not left the firehouse unscathed. Debris from the blast lay scattered everywhere. "It'll take forever to clean this place up!" I groaned.

Ray shook his head as he stared at the wreckage. "It's worse than when we bought the place."

Egon pushed his glasses up his nose, which he always did when he was thinking. "Luckily we came back and covered that hole in the ceiling. Otherwise it would be impossible to operate here anymore."

"Well, what do we do?" said Winston.

I sighed. "What we did before: clean up and remodel."

"Have I mentioned my bad back?" Peter piped up.

I smacked the back of his head. "Come on. We got work to do."

* * *

With the help of the whole team (maybe not so much Peter…), we got the job done in a couple of weeks, thanks to Ray's work ethic, Egon's technological brilliance, Winston's handiness, and my enthusiasm. Nobody was going to shut down Ghostbusters on my watch again!

So we reopened. And of course, we were flooded with calls. I guess we weren't all that useless, huh?

We all decided to spend Christmas together. Christmas was a time for family after all. I had suggested we do a secret Santa. I had been lucky enough to draw Ray, and I'd gotten him the perfect gift.

"Seasons greetings!" I called as I walked into the upstairs where our tree was set up. Ray and Egon, who'd been living at the firehouse ever since its facelift, were sitting on the couch.

"Hey, Jenny," said Ray.

I sat down between the two of them. "So boys, what are we talking about?"

"The slime," replied Egon.

"I should've known," I said, shaking my head. Ever since the courtroom incident, the only word that had come out of the pair's mouth was "slime." "So, what's up with that stuff anyway?"

I'd been so busy with helping with the rebuilding that I hadn't even gotten to hear about the resident gunk. "Well," began Ray. "As you know, the Scoleri brothers came out of the slime when the judge was yelling."

"That guy was a complete nutcase," I commented. "So, why did that happen?"

"We haven't figured that out yet. We pulled the stuff from a river underneath the street," Egon informed me.

"Oh, that's why you digging the hole!" I exclaimed. "Where did that stuff come from anyway?"

"Well." Egon paused, as if not sure how to word his hypothesis. "We believe it was generated by…negative emotion."

I raised an eyebrow. "Could you elaborate on that?"

"You know people treat each other in this city, right?" Ray asked.

I nodded. Just this morning, I'd watched two men in the street bump into each other and immediately start into a screaming match. "It's really sad."

"What we have concluded is that all that negative energy has produced the pink slime, which obviously responds to human emotion," said Egon.

"Huh." I mulled the thought over in my mind. "Could be…I wonder if the slime responds to positive emotions as well?"

Ray and Egon raised their eyebrows, as if it hadn't occurred to them. "That has possibilities…" Egon's voice trailed off, and I could just tell that he was itching to get back to the lab.

"Hello? Anybody home?" hollered a voice from downstairs.

"Up here, Venkman!" I called.

Peter came in, followed closely by Winston. "Goody!" I said excitedly. "The festivities can begin."

"I'm first," said Peter with a greedy leer. Ray smiled and handed over an envelope. "Merry Christmas, Pete."

Peter tore open the envelope and pulled out a small slip of a paper. "A gift certificate to Paula's Pranks!" he exclaimed.

"You sure that was a wise move?" I said, raising an eyebrow at Ray.

Ray thought for a second, thinking of all the tricks Peter could pull with his new merchandise. "Uh oh," he groaned as Peter smiled wickedly.

Peter handed Egon a package. "Happy holidays, brainiac."

Egon slowly opened the box and pulled out his present. I cracked up.

Peter had found probably the tackiest Christmas sweater ever. It had a big cheerful Santa-face on the front, complete with a red fuzzy ball for the nose. "Uh…thanks, Venkman," said Egon flatly.

Peter shrugged. "Don't mention it, pal."

Egon passed Winston a big, thick book. I guess Egon wasn't one for wrapping paper. Winston read the cover. "_The Unabridged History of Spores, Molds, and Fungi_?"

"Just open it," said Egon, his voice suggesting he was biting back a laugh.

Winston shrugged and opened the book…or what we had thought was a book. It was a box made to look like a book. Winston pulled a chisel out of the box. "New carving tools! Spengs, you rock!"

"Nice one, Egon," I chuckled. "Okay, my turn." I couldn't wait any longer.

I handed Ray the box. He opened it and pulled out his present. "Jennifer!" he exclaimed. "Where did you find this? It looks exactly like her!"

He was holding what had been a model of a '60's ambulance before I had painted it especially to resemble Ecto-1, Ray's one true love. "I had it custom made," I said.

He hugged me. "This is the best Christmas ever!"

I giggled. "Glad you like it."

"And last but not least…" said Winston as he held out my present.

I smiled. "Thanks."

The package was rectangular and flat like a board, about the size of a piece of paper. I took off the wrapping, curiously. Then I just stared. "Oh my God," I whispered.

It was a painting of us. We were all wearing our jumpsuits. On the far left, Peter was standing there with his arms crossed, looking casual as usual. Next to him was Winston, holding the wand on his proton pack, ready for busting. On the far right, Ray was wearing his ecto-goggles on his head and was leaning against the cab of Ecto-1 with a grin on his face. Egon stood to the left of him, smart and scientific, PKE meter in hand. And I was in the center, my hands on my hips.

"Winston…it's beautiful. Did you paint this?"

He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "Yeah, I did."

I stood up and hugged him. "This is the best present I've ever gotten. Thank you."

"Even better than that membership to 'She-Dorks of America' I got you?" said Peter with a smirk.

I gave him a look. "Yes, Venkman. Even better than that."

Suddenly, the alarm rang. I groaned. "On Christmas? Really?"

Ray smiled. "Come on. You know you love it."

I rolled my eyes. "Okay, I admit it."

We dashed down the poles and pulled on our uniforms, complete with Santa hats for the occasion. _Wow,_ I couldn't help but think. _We really are back_.

* * *

After the job, I was in the kitchen making cocoa. The radio was playing "Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree." I couldn't help but sing along. I was so happy. I had been reunited with my friends, Ghostbusters was open again, and the whole city loved us. Plus, it was Christmas!

"You will get a sentimental feeling when you hear," I crooned. "Voices singin' let's be jolly, deck the halls-"

_Bloop!_

I stopped short and slowly turned around. A Tupperware container half full of the slime was sitting on a shelf behind me, and I could've sworn it had just bubbled.

I walked over to it and inspected it. Why had it bubbled? Nothing had been going on, no one had been yelling…but someone _had_ been singing.

I cautiously started to sing again. "Rockin' around the Christmas tree, have a happy holiday. Everyone dancin' merrily in the new-"

_Bloop! Bloop!_

I gasped as the slime bubbled again. "Egon!" I yelled. "Come quick!"

Egon walked in. "What is it?"

"It's the slime…look." I started singing. "You will get a sentimental feeling when you hear. Voices singin' let's be jo-"

_Bloop!_ Egon stared at the slime, bewildered. "Fascinating."

"Yeah, my sentiments exactly," I agreed. It looked like this slime was more than it seemed.


	5. Mystery of the Slime

"We've been experimenting with the plasm from the subway tunnel…careful," said Ray as Egon took the slime out of the microwave. I could tell that they had something big cooking…no pun intended.

We were all crowded in the kitchen around the counter. It had been a couple days since my discovery. Egon and Ray had been hard at work testing the slime. It looked like we were about to find out what they had been up to.

"Should I get spoons?" joked Peter.

"Don't bother. Watch this," Egon answered. He set the Tupperware full of slime onto the table. "Go ahead, Ray," he said emphatically. I could tell this was important, considering Egon never got excited.

Ray grinned and looked down at the gunk. "You!" he yelled. "You worthless piece of slime! You ignorant disgusting blob!"

The slime bubbled. Pete and Winston jumped back a little. I, on the other hand, knew all about it, so I remained unfazed.

"You're nothing but an unstable short chain molecule!" Egon scolded. Ah, scientist insults.

"You foul, obnoxious muck!" shouted Ray.

"You have weak electrochemical bonds!" added Egon, with a shake of his finger.

"I have seen some disgusting crud in my time but YOU! take the cake-" Ray was starting to really rant at that point. I laid my hand on his shoulder. "Ray."

He blinked and seemed to notice the rest of us. "Oh. Heh-heh. Sorry."

"So…this is what you do with your spare time?" said Peter.

"Peter, this is an incredible breakthrough. I mean, what a discovery, a psycho-reactive substance," said Ray. "Whatever this stuff is, it responds to human emotional states."

Peter thought about for a second. "Mood slime."

"Basically," I said.

Peter leaned toward the slime. "Oh, baby," he said in his "sexy" voice. The slime bubbled in reply.

"You mean this stuff actually feeds on bad vibes," said Winston.

"Like a cop in a donut factory," replied Ray.

"We've been running tests to get an equally strong positive reaction," Egon informed us.

"What kind of tests?" Peter asked.

Egon suddenly looked uncomfortable, as if he regretted steering the conversation in this direction. And in about ten seconds, we were going to find out why.

"Well, uh, we sing to it," said Ray. "And we talk to it, and we say…supportive nurturing things to it."

"You're not…sleeping with it, are you, Ray?" Peter asked innocently.

Ray pointedly looked at Egon, who suddenly found the wall very interesting to look at. His cheeks were rapidly turning red.

"Oh, you," said Peter in mock disgust.

Winston shook his head. "It's always the quiet ones."

I thought for a moment. "How would that be even physically possi- you know what? I don't even want to know." The three of us cackled like hyenas.

"Hey, come on. It's not that funny," Ray valiantly stood up for his eh…repressed friend, whose face was now making tomatoes look pale.

I nodded. "You're right, you're right. We shouldn't make fun of poor Egon…it's not his fault that things are that bad for him." Winston, Peter, and I started howling.

Egon cleared his throat. "How about the kinetic tests?" he asked eager to change the subject.

"Okay," said Ray. I could tell that this had been the moment he had waiting for.

Egon grabbed a toaster off the counter. "Ordinary household toaster," he said, brandishing the appliance. Ray began spooning the slime into the slots.

I gagged a little. "Didn't we have toast for breakfast this morning?"

Egon just smiled smugly as he popped a couple pieces of bread into the slots. I shuddered. "I am not eating breakfast with you mad scientists again."

Egon carried the toaster over to the pool table. "It responds to music," explained Ray. "We've been experimenting with easy listening. You know, middle-of-the-road type stuff, Paul Young, "Dust in the Wind." That works okay, but…"

"Loves Jackie Wilson," said Egon, turning on the boom box. The beginning notes of "Higher and Higher" played.

"You guys do this at night when I'm not here?" said Peter in mock offense. "Oh, I get it, it sings. It sounds exactly like Jackie. That's fantastic."

As the radio sang out the lyrics to that all-to-familiar song, the toaster popped up. I mean, it literally popped up. Like, it jumped.

Peter stared at the toaster, mouth hanging open. Ray and Egon shared a smirk, pleased at Peter's astounded reaction. "Oh, it dances too!" said Peter.

The toaster began to shake and jumped around more enthusiastically. "Shake it up!" cheered Pete.

"Yeah, man!" added Winston.

"That's flipping awesome," I commented.

Suddenly, the bread in the machine popped out and flew about five feet into the air. Egon reached out, caught them, and turned off the music. Peter grabbed the toaster and cuddled it. "Oh baby! You are my number one boutique gift item!"

I snorted. "Too bad Christmas is gone, Venkman. You could start a line of those things."

"Yeah, and the first time someone gets angry, the toaster eats their hand!" Winston pointed out.

"No, no. We put a warning label on the side; we don't have any liabilities-ow! Ow!" he wailed as the toaster seemed to swallow his fingers, just as Winston had predicted.

Egon quickly pulled the toaster off of Peter, who ceased screaming and started laughing. "Oh did you ever go for it! The old man-eating toaster trick!"

"Get him!" yelled Egon. I laughed as they all tackled Peter to the floor.

* * *

The next day, Peter came in. "Hey, Peter. How's it going?" I spoke up from where I had been sitting.

"Perfect, of course," Peter replied. "Except for a creepy painting and some weird foreign guy sniffing around my Dana."

"Oh, don't be such a xenophobe," I said. "I'm sure he doesn't hold a candle to you." I was happy for Pete because I knew that he really loved Dana.

He tousled my hair. "You're not so bad, kid."

"Excuse me," said Egon from his lab station. "Did you say 'creepy painting'?"

Peter snorted. "Turn off your PKE meter, Spengs. It's just a painting of a prince or something."

"What's this prince's name?" asked Egon curiously.

Peter shrugged. "Vigo the Carpathian or something."

Egon pushed his glasses up his nose. "Excuse me…"

* * *

Later that day, I was playing my guitar when Ray came in. "Come on, we got a call."

I jumped up from the couch and he, Egon, and I headed out.

As we drove down the street, I realized we were heading in a familiar direction. "Hey, this place must be right near my apartment building."

Ray and Egon shared a look. I gasped. "Oh no!"

Sure enough, it was in fact my apartment building. "Which apartment is it?" I asked the super.

"It's number fourteen c."

I gasped. "Mrs. Shapiro!"

We raced upstairs. "Oh thank goodness you're here!" cried my neighbor. "It had glowing red eyes and-and-and-"

"Don't worry, Mrs. S," I consoled. "We're here to help."

Sure enough, there was a rowdy Class 5 stirring up trouble. "Throw it!" exclaimed Ray.

Egon and I fired at the phantom. It eluded our streams, which bore a hole right into the wall connecting Mrs. Shapiro's and mine apartments. "Crap!" I exclaimed.

Suddenly the ghost popped back out. "Ah!" I shrieked and blasted. The stream snatched the ghost. "Alright Ray! Get the trap!"

"Got it!" He slid the trap over to me. I released my hold on the ghost as he hit the pedal. The ghost was trapped.

"Piece of cake," grinned Ray, holding the steaming trap.

I stared despondently at the gigantic hole in the wall. The sheetrock and stuff had exploded into my apartment, destroying it. "Where the hell am I going to live? My apartment is ruined!" I moaned.

"You'll stay at the firehouse with us," said Egon decisively.

"Yeah," agreed Ray. "You already practically live there anyway!"

I smiled and hugged them both. "Thank you."


	6. Sleepwalker

(Third Person)

That night, Jennifer slept at the firehouse. She had been asleep when all of a sudden, she sat straight up. "_Command me, lord_," she groaned.

She stepped out of bed and began to walk down the hall.

Egon was working on his new invention, the "slime blower", and Ray was watching a Saturday Night Live rerun.

Ray cracked up. "That Dan Aykroyd is a hoot!"

Egon looked up from his work and studied the screen. "He sort of resembles you, Raymond," he commented.

Ray stared at the comedian for a moment. "I don't see it," he finally said.

Jennifer walked into the room. "Hey, Jenny," said Ray. "I thought you were asleep."

"_Command me, lord_," she moaned and walked toward the pole.

"Jennifer? Are you alright?" asked Egon, noting her strange behavior.

Jennifer ignored him and slid down the pole.

Downstairs, Jennifer's feet hit the ground floor, waking up Janine who'd been dozing on the job. "Oh, Jennifer! I was just resting my eyes-"

Jennifer didn't appear to be listening. She shuffled toward the door.

"Jennifer?" asked Janine.

"She can't hear you," said Egon as he came down the stairs, followed closely by Ray. "I believe she's sleepwalking."

"Well, then let's wake her up!" said Janine.

"We can't. You have to be very careful around sleepwalkers," explained Ray. "Abruptly waking them up can be dangerous."

"Well, what do we do?" asked Janine.

"I have an idea," said Egon. He stood in front of Jennifer. "Jennifer," he said gently. "Go back to bed."

"Power of suggestion," Ray whispered to Janine.

"_I cannot_," Jennifer said. "_I must await the word of Vigo_."

"Who's Vigo?" asked Janine.

"I don't know," Ray replied.

Suddenly, the phone rang loudly and Jennifer woke up.

* * *

(Jennifer's POV)

_Come to me, my servant_, a deep voice called to me. I wanted to obey. I had to obey!

My eyes popped open. I was standing the front hall, by the door. I stumbled a little in surprise and Egon, who was standing next to me, caught me. "Oh!" I gasped. "Where-where am I?"

"You were sleepwalking," explained Egon, as Ray answered the ringing phone.

"Huh? But I don't sleepwalk. I don't even talk in my sleep," I said confusedly.

"You said something about 'Vigo'?" said Janine.

"What?" exclaimed Ray suddenly. "Are you serious? …Well, that's great! I mean, terrible, but it's great for what we…Yeah, I will…Yeah, sure, we'll get right on it."

Ray hung up the phone and turned to Egon. "Spengler, major slime related psychokinetic incident."

"What happened?" asked Egon.

"Something came out of Dana's tub, tried to grab her and the baby!" explained Ray.

"Oh my God! Are they okay?" I asked worriedly.

"Well, she got out of there and headed over to Venkman's."

"This is interesting, Ray," said Egon. He looked at me. "Do remember the painting Peter mentioned?"

"Yeah, that Vigo the Malaysian guy," I recalled.

"Carpathian," corrected Egon.

"Whatever. What about him?"

"I ran the name through the occult reference net," continued Egon, heading over to the computer. "Look what came up."

Ray and I leaned over to read the screen. "Ooh," winced Ray. "Nice ugly history."

"Tyrant, sorcerer, and psychotic autocrat," I read aloud. "Yikes."

"You think there's a connection between this Vigo character, Jennifer's dream, and the…" Ray voice trailed off as he turned to look at a big glass jug holding the slime, which bubbled ominously. "…slime?"

"Is the atomic weight of cobalt 58.9?" asked Egon.

I looked over at Janine. "Don't you just love it when they talk all sciency?"

"We better get to Dana's apartment. I want to check out that bathtub!" said Ray. He and Egon started putting on their jackets.

"I'm coming too. Sleep is just too dangerous!" I said.

"You're going in your pajamas?" asked Janine.

I looked down at my attire and shrugged. "Why not? I'll just wear a jacket over 'em."

"It might be a good idea to go to the museum in the morning, get a look at that painting," said Egon. And so, the three of headed out.

* * *

Dana's door was wide open, which was good because I didn't have my key to her apartment. "I guess she just grabbed Oscar and ran," I said.

"We better check the bathroom first," said Ray.

We walked into the bathroom, expecting the room to be covered in goo. But there was only a small bit in the tub. "It went down the drain?" I suggested.

"Or it crawled away," added Egon, scanning it with his PKE meter.

I shuddered. "Yuck!"

Egon handed me a Petri dish. Oh great, now I was going to have to touch the stuff. Being a Ghostbuster wasn't all it was cracked up to be sometimes.

"While we're here," said Ray, "could you tell us about your dream, Jennifer?"

"Oh, right," I said. I'd almost forgotten. "Well, it wasn't a dream exactly. I just heard a voice calling me and I felt compelled to follow it. Gosh, it's so creepy to think you might not have control of your own body."

"What did the voice say exactly?" asked Egon.

"It said 'Come to me, my servant' in a really deep voice," I said. "Did this happen because I'm psychic?"

"We have no way of knowing," said Ray. "Dana Barrett doesn't have any unusual psychic ability, and yet, demons are attracted to her."

"And men too, it seems," I mused. Then I grew serious. "Guys, I'm scared. What if this keeps happening every time I go to sleep?"

"We'll watch you and make sure you don't start trying to get away," said Egon.

"Thanks, guys," I said, "for everything."

"It's no problem, Jenny," said Ray. "You're like family. We would never let anything hurt you." Egon nodded, agreeing with him.

In spite of the fact that I'd almost been possessed, I couldn't help but smile. I've got the greatest family in the world.


	7. At the Museum

The next morning, Ray, Winston, Egon, and I went to the Metropolitan Museum of Art, home of the portrait of Vigo the Carpathian.

Peter was waiting for us out front. "Find anything at Dana's?" he asked as we climbed out of Ecto-1.

"Nothing but some mood slime residue around the bathtub," replied Ray. "We got something on that Vigo character you mentioned, found it in Leon Sundinger's _Magicians, Martyrs, and Madmen_." He handed Peter a piece of paper with our research on it.

"Vigo the Carpathian, born 1505, died 1610," recited Egon.

"105 years," calculated Peter. "He hung in there, didn't he?"

"He didn't die of old age, either," I added. "He was poisoned, stabbed, shot, hung, stretched, disemboweled, drawn and quartered."

Peter flinched. "Ouch."

"I guess he wasn't too popular at the end," commented Winston.

"No, not exactly a man of the people," agreed Egon. "He was also known as Vigo the Cruel, Vigo the Torturer, Vigo the Despised, and Vigo the Unholy."

"Wasn't he also Vigo the Butch?" asked Peter sarcastically.

"Didn't anybody just call him Vigo?" I wondered aloud.

"And dig this, there was a prophecy," added Ray. "Just before his head died, his last words were: 'Death is but a door; time is but a window. I'll be back.'"

We grabbed our equipment and headed inside. "Hey, Albert," said Peter to the elderly security guard. "We're just going up to check out some paintings."

"Sorry, Dr. Venkman," said the guard. "Dr. Poha said you're not allowed in the museum anymore."

Peter looked hurt. "And I thought you were my fan."

"Well, what do we do now?" fretted Winston

I stepped forward. "I got this one, guys." Then, I turned to Albert. "I'd like to speak to Dr. Wilcox, please. Tell him it's Jennifer.

Alex came down the stairs. "Jennifer? What's going on?" He noted the guys at my side. "Is something the matter?"

It had been a while since I'd seen Alex; he'd been so busy lately. I felt butterflies flap around in my stomach. "No, no. Everything's fine."

"Oh, I see. And these guys are?"

I gestured to each of the guys. "Alex, this is Winston Zeddemore, Peter Venkman, Egon Spengler, and Ray Stantz."

"We've already met," said Ray, shaking Alex's hand. Was I being paranoid or did Ray give Alex a funny look?

"It's a pleasure to meet you all," said Alex, a little nervously. "Jennifer talks about you a lot."

I shrugged. "They're my brothers. What are you gonna do?"

"So, what's up?" Alex asked me.

"He," I nodded my head toward Albert, "won't let us in."

Alex marched up to the counter. "Albert, let these people in."

"But Dr. Poha said-"

"Al, who's the head curator here? Poha or me?" asked Alex.

The guard gulped. "Yes sir. You all can go up."

"Thanks, Al," said Peter. He and the guys began to head for the stairs.

"Seriously, Jen, what's wrong? Is there a ghost or something?" Alex asked.

I shook my head. "No, it should be fine, really."

"Alright," he said. "Just be careful, okay? I worry about you."

I blushed. "You worry about me?"

He smiled. "Well, yeah. Of course I do."

I put my hand on his cheek. "Don't worry about me. I'll be fine."

"Okay," he whispered. Then we just stood there, staring at each other.

"Um…Jennifer? Are you coming?" called Egon.

I looked up in surprise. I hadn't even realized the guys were still there. "Uh, yeah! Be right there!" I said. I looked back at Alex. "I have to go."

Alex nodded. "Bye."

* * *

All heads turned as we marched into the Restoration lab. "Alright, suck in the guts, guys. We're the Ghostbusters!" muttered Peter.

Suddenly, some guy started yelling at us in an extremely foreign accent. "No, no! Please go! You!"

"Who's this wiggler?" muttered Ray to Peter.

"He's yours, Ray; sick him!" ordered Peter.

Ray smiled amiably at the little man and shook his hand. "Hi, Ray Stantz of the Ghostbusters. Nice to see you. Beautiful lab. We're just doing a routine spook check."

The foreign guy started to protest, but Ray ignored him as he and Egon started scanning the room. The man turned to Peter. "Dr. Venkman, Dana is not here."

"Yeah, we know that, Johnny," replied Peter.

"So why are you came?"

"Well, we got a report that there was a major creep in the area. We checked our list and your name was right on the top. Johnny, where in the hell are you from, anyway?" Peter asked. I had been wondering that myself.

The man looked confused. "The upper west side?"

Egon came up behind Peter and tapped him on the shoulder. "The whole room is extremely hot, Peter."

"That is one ugly dude," said Winston beside me. I followed his gaze to a gigantic painting of a muscle-bound man in armor standing with his hand on his hips. His menacing glare made me squirm. "Holy shit," I whispered. "Who _is_ that?"

"Oh, that's Vigo!" said Peter cheerfully. "Mister Vigo! Vigs! Would you look this way please?" he called. He whipped out his camera and began to snap pictures of the brute.

"So that's Vigo," I muttered. "He ain't much of a looker, is he?" Winston snickered.

"No, don't! No! No!" protested "Johnny." I was starting to get the feeling that this was the Dr. Poha who had banned us in the first place. He jumped in front of the canvas. "No photographs, please! Slides are available in the gift shop! Ah!" Poha shrieked as Winston pulled him out of the way.

"Yeah, thank you, Winston," called Peter. He started catcalling to the painting. "Alright, you know what? Give me angry, will you? You've had a bad day, you're cranky. Can you do that for me? Yeah, good. Ooh, angrier. Ooh, you're scaring me, stop it!"

I rolled my eyes. Peter was such a goober.

As Egon wandered around to the back of the canvas, Ray scanned the front. He stared at the painting's eyes for a long time. Suddenly, his arms went limp. "Ray?" I asked.

"Come on, yeah! Destroy me! Come at me, bro!" shouted Peter. Egon grabbed Peter's arm. "Venkman, we need to talk. Come on."

I shook Ray's arm. "Ray!" Winston had apparently noticed too because he came up behind me. "Hey! You finished?" He asked Ray, who was shaking his head.

"What? Oh, yeah, I'm finished her," replied Ray, slightly distracted.

"You all right?" fretted Winston.

Ray looked confused. "What?"

"You don't look so good, buddy," I said.

"You coming down with something?" asked Winston.

Ray scoffed and patted his chest. "Me?" He followed Peter and Egon out.

Winston and I watched Ray suspiciously. "Keep an eye on him, Zedd," I muttered. "Don't even let him shave."

We began to walk out, but suddenly I heard that deep voice I had heard the night before. _What was will be, what is will be no more. Now is the season of evil._

I froze. Winston noticed. "What is it?"

I shook my head. "Nothing. Let's get out of here. This place is giving me the heebie-jeebies."

* * *

**Bum bum bum! What's up with Ray? And is there something going on between Jennifer and Alex? Read on.**


	8. Firehouse Blaze

That night, Ray and Egon were inspecting the photographs of Vigo the Carpathian that Peter had taken. "We were right, Ray," said Egon, studying one through a magnifying glass. "Multi-planar Kirlian emanations."

"Yeah, well here's your next month's cover of _GQ_," replied Ray, He handed Egon another photograph. "Check out the aura on this sucker. Now there is definitely a living presence there."

Egon nodded. "We should get a deeper look."

"Why don't I run this wider shot through the spectral analyzer?" suggested Ray.

"Good, I'll try turning up the roentgens," said Egon.

I suppressed a yawn. "Not that this is boring or anything, but why don't I go see what Winston is up to and leave the brainy stuff to you two?"

The guys didn't even seem to have registered what I had said. I sighed and walked out, closing the door behind me.

Suddenly, a deep urge came over me. _Lock them in_, the voice whispered to me.

My hand shot out and pulled the outside lock shut. "It is done, lord," I whispered.

"Jennifer?" said a voice behind me. I was shaken out of my stupor and turned around. "Oh, Winston, you scared me."

"Sorry," he chuckled. "You want some coffee?"

I wrinkled my nose. "How about a Coke?"

He shrugged. "Alright."

We headed into the kitchen and got our beverages. "So," said Winston. "Who was that young fella at the museum?"

I blushed. "Alex is…just a friend."

"Didn't look that way to me."

"Well, he doesn't like me like that," I said.

"How do you know?" asked Winston.

I thought for a second. "Well, he's never asked me out."

"Do you ever think he might be too shy?" Winston retorted.

"I don't think so," I mused. "Alex likes to speak his mind."

Winston nodded. "And do you like him?"

"I…" My voice trailed off. "Do you smell something?"

Winston sniffed. "Hey, I do. Smells like smoke!"

Suddenly, we heard a loud yell. "JENNIFER! WINSTON!"

"That's Egon!" I exclaimed.

We raced over to the door of the lab. Smoke was coming out from the bottom of the door. "Holy shit, it's a fire! Grab an extinguisher!" I yelled. Then I banged on the door. "Guys! Get outta there!"

"We can't!" I heard Ray shout from the other side. "The door's locked!"

I instinctively reached out and grabbed the slide lock, forgetting there was a fire on the other side of the door. "Ow!" I wailed as the metal lock seared my hand. "I can't unlock the door!"

"Don't touch the lock!" yelled Egon. "It'll burn you!"

"A little late for that warning!"

Winston came running up, carrying a fire extinguisher. "Stand clear," he told me.

I nodded and did so as Winston used his extinguisher to beat down the door. Then he squeezed the handle and put out the blaze.

"Oh my God!" I exclaimed as I pulled Ray into a hug. "Are you okay?"

He nodded. "Yeah, I'm good."

Then I turned to Egon and hugged him too. "Are you alright?" I asked worriedly.

"I'm fine," Egon replied. "Let me see your hand."

I held it out. I had almost forgotten it, but now that I was paying attention, I realized it was stinging.

Egon looked it over. My palm had a big, pink, puckering burn on it. "This needs immediate attention," said Egon. He led me into the kitchen, Ray and Winston following, and pulled out the first aid kit.

"How did that fire even start in the first place?" asked Winston.

"Egon and I were studying the photos when all of a sudden, they just burst into flames!" exclaimed Ray.

"Completely spontaneous combustion," added Egon.

"And just when we were on to something too!" groaned Ray wistfully.

"What?" I asked to distract myself from my throbbing hand.

"When we pulled that picture out the analyzer, we saw a river of slime in the background," explained Ray.

I gasped. "Just like the one you saw under the street!"

"What I want to know is, how did the door get locked?" inquired Winston.

"I don't know," said Ray.

"It's all my fault," I groaned.

"How is this your fault?" asked Ray confusedly.

"I-I locked the door," I confessed.

Ray and Winston stared at me. Even Egon looked up from bandaging my hand. "Why would you do something like that?" said Winston.

"You know that voice I told you about? The one I heard last night?" I said. "Well, it came back. It told me to lock you in."

"Have you heard it any other times?" asked Egon concernedly.

I nodded. "Yes, today at the museum. It said something about the 'season of evil.'"

"I thought there was something was something up with you," said Winston.

"So, apparently," reasoned Egon, "you can be telepathically contacted, and even possessed, at anytime, not just when you're asleep.

I shuddered. "So I might go on an evil rampage whenever the hell Vigo wants?"

"I'm afraid so," said Egon gravely.

The room was quiet. "So what are we going to do?" said Ray finally.

"I say that we go down into the tunnel and check that slime flow," I said. "It obviously has a key role in this whole mess."

"I agree," said Ray. "Let's pick up and Venkman and head out."

* * *

We drove down the street in Ecto-1, wearing waiters and raincoats. As I looked out my window, I noted people coming out of liquor store, carrying bottles of champagne. I realized that New Years' Eve was the next day. We'd been so busy that I'd completely forgotten.

"There's Venkman's building," said Ray, pointing up ahead.

"And there's Venkman," said Winston. Sure enough, Peter was walking out of the building, looking spiffy.

Ray parked the car right in front of the building. We all climbed out. "Pete, it's great that you're here!" exclaimed Ray. "We've got incredible news!"

"Wait a minute. Can I have one try?" said Venkman, scrutinizing our outfits. "All-you-can-eat barbeque rib night at the Sizzler?"

"Close," I sighed. "Very close."

"No," said Egon. "We analyzed the photos you took of Vigo. The spectrogram shows a river of slime."

"Just like the one I saw underground," added Ray.

"We're going into the subway and sewers to see if we can trace the source of the flow," I informed Peter.

"Yeah, come on and change your clothes. We'll wait for you," said Egon.

"Egon even thinks there night be a tremendous breeding surge in the cockroach population," joked Winston.

"Hi, boys," said Dana as she was walking out of the building behind Peter. "What's up?"

The four of us shared a look. "Hi," said Ray knowingly.

"Dana, the guys are going down into the sewer to check for slime stuff, and Egon thinks there may even be a huge surge in cockroach breeding," said Peter, turning to his date. "You wanna blow off this dinner thing and go with them?"

Dana smiled and headed out toward the street. "Taxi!" she sang out.

Peter turned to us and shrugged. "Women, huh?"

"Oh, well," I said. "I guess we'll have to manage without you, Pete."


	9. Beneath These Streets

"Oof!" exclaimed Winston as he stumbled over a rail.

"Will you watch your step?" hissed Egon.

"Why did I suggest this? Why?" I said, shaking my head.

We had found our way into the old transit lines, and now we were trying to find Ray's slime river. "So I thought these lines got shut down," I said to him.

"Yeah," replied Ray. "Over fifty years ago."

"But they're still here?" I asked. "I thought they would have filled them in or something."

"Too much trouble," said Egon.

Winston looked around the dark subway tunnel. "I hate this."

I snorted. "Not afraid of the dark, are you, Winnie?"

"Shut it."

Ray looked at the paper in his hand. "According to this old transit map, there should be an entrance anyway along here somewhere."

"I'm not getting anything yet," said Egon, studying his PKE meter.

"Well, at least it's too dark to see the cockroaches," fretted Winston.

"That's not necessarily a good thing," I pointed out. "Then you don't know when one's sneaking up on you."

"Forget about cockroaches," said Ray. "It's the subway rats you gotta worry about. Big as beavers."

"Yeah, some of them even go four or five kilos," added Egon.

"Why can't you use the customary system?" I sighed. "Giant rat's coming and we don't even know how big it is."

"Hey, hey. Enough, alright?" said Winston.

"Listen," whispered Ray. A bit of a grin was appearing on his face. "You can hear them behind the walls, scratching. There must be thousands of 'em."

"Just shut up about the rats!" exclaimed Winston.

"Yeah," I agreed. "Now I'm getting spooked."

"Okay, okay." Ray looked down the tunnel. "Hello!" he called.

The tunnel echoed back. _Hello!_

"Cool," I said, grinning.

"Hey!" shouted Egon. _Hey!_ the tunnel resounded.

Winston chuckled. "Hello!" he yelled.

We listened expectantly for the reply. A moment of silence passed.

"What the?" I whispered. "Where's the echo?"

_WWWWIIIIIIIIIIIIINSTON,_ wailed the tunnel. The smiles disappeared from our faces.

"Okay, I'm outta here," said Winston.

"I'm with ya!" I exclaimed. I turned around to make a break for it, but something blocked my path. "Auuuuuuuuuuugh!"

Floating about three feet in front of my face was a shriveled up, stringy haired, human head. Its eyes were rotting and flies were swarming around it.

It wasn't alone either. There were about a bazillion of them surrounding us, each one more disgusting than the one before. So naturally, we all started screaming heads off.

And suddenly, they vanished.

We stopped yelling. Winston sighed with relief. "They're gone."

I was trembling. "What the hell was that?"

Egon put a hand on my shoulder. "They weren't real, Jennifer."

"I know. But that was…so frightening."

Ray looked at me concernedly. "You alright?"

I nodded shakily. "Yeah. Yeah, I 'm fine."

"Before we go any further, I think we should get our proton packs," suggested Egon.

"Good idea," said Winston.

So we turned around and started walking back the way we came.

_Chugga-chugga-chugga._

The four of us froze.

"What's that?" hissed Winston.

"Uh…what's what?" asked Ray.

Winston gulped. "It's sounds like a…train."

Ray shook his head. "Uh-uh. These lines have been abandoned for fifty years."

"Oh," said Winston, not sounding sure at all.

"Let's keep walking," I said. We did so, but we stopped again when we heard the squeal of train wheels against rails.

"Probably in one of the tunnels above us," said Egon quickly.

"I sure hope you're right, Spengs," I gulped.

"I don't know…sounds awfully close to me," said Winston unsurely.

Then we heard it-the whistle.

We turned our heads toward the sound. There was a gigantic steam locomotive barreling toward us.

Ray jumped one way, Egon and I jumped another. Winston, however, was rooted to his place and did not move. "Auuuuuuuuuuuuuuugh!" He shrieked as the train…passed harmlessly through him?

"Shit on a shingle!" I exclaimed. "It's a ghost train!"

After the phantom freight had rolled away, Egon and I hurriedly got up and rushed over to Winston. "I think that was the old New York Central, city of Albany!" exclaimed Egon. "Derailed in 1920, killed hundreds of people!" He turned to Winston. "Did you catch the number on the locomotive?"

I stared at him, my mouth agape. "Really?"

"Sorry," squeaked Winston. "I missed it."

"Something's trying to stop us," said Egon, "We must be close."

I realized that there was only the three of us. "Hey…where's Ray?"

We started calling for our friend. "GUYS!" Ray yelled, popping out at us.

"Ah!" The three of us yelled. "Jesus, Ray! Warn somebody!" I exclaimed.

"Oh," said Ray. "Sorry. Anyway, I found it!"

"What?" asked Egon.

"Right here, there's a hole!" he said, gesturing to where he had come from.

"Let's go!" I exclaimed.

Ray, Egon, and I climbed through the hole. "What about the packs? What about the packs!" fretted Winston. He sighed and followed us. "Scientists."

"Yuck!" I exclaimed as I took a cobweb straight to the face. "The maintenance crew in this place seriously needs to be assessed."

"There it is!" pointed Ray, grinning at the sight of the slime. It was just as he said. Where once the Metro had run through, there was now literally a river of slime.

"Fascinating," remarked Egon.

"Didn't I tell you?" said Ray. "Wasn't lying, was I?"

I shook my head as I stared at the ooze. "You weren't kidding, Ray."

"Do you know how much negative energy it took to generate a flow this size?" Egon mused.

"It's so sad," I whispered. "To think that we treat each other so badly that it could have repercussions like this."

"Hey, New York," smiled Winston. "What a town."

"Alright, let's see how deep it is. Get a sounding," said Egon.

Winston pulled out the measuring tape on his belt and tossed in the end. I wrinkled my nose. "Why is it pink? Not that I don't like pink…but too much is too much."

"Six feet," said Winston. "No, twelve feet."

"Twelve?" Ray was surprised.

"I…I think something's pulling on it!" exclaimed Winston.

Suddenly, I felt that urge again. _No! No, I can't!_ I thought.

"Well, hold it!" said Ray.

"I can't!" declared Winston. "Give me a hand!"

The three of them stood on the edge of the slime flow…so vulnerable.

"Yaaaaaaah!" I cried. I gave them a good, hearty shove.

Egon and Ray managed not to fall in, but as I pushed them, their bodies knocked into Winston's, who went tumbling headfirst into the slime. "Aaaaaaaaaaaaaah!" he cried as he was carried downstream.

I shook myself out of my trance. I gasped. "Winston!"

So I did the logical thing and jumped in after him.

Ray and Egon looked at each other, plugged their noses and followed me into the gunk.


	10. Concentrated Evil

Finally, after at least an hour of floating in the goo, the flow led us to a place where we could get out the muck and get back into the city. We were soaked in the slime.

Ray climbed through the manhole in the street, followed by Winston. "Nice going, Ray," he grumbled. "What were trying to do, drown me?"

"Oh yeah, Zeddemore. Like it was my fault that you were stupid enough to fall in!" Ray snapped back.

"Hey! That was _her_ fault!" Winston pointed at me.

"I was _possessed_, you idiot!" I snarled back. "And don't forget, I jumped in to save your sorry ass!"

Even though I was pissed off, I couldn't help but wonder: Why were we acting like this?

Egon cut into our little gripe-fest. "Would you boneheads knock it off?"

That's what snapped me back to reality. Egon never had a mean word to say toward anyone.

Something was making us act this way. But what?

"'Boneheads?' Hey, you better watch your mouth or I'll punch your lights out!" threatened Winston.

"Go ahead," jeered Ray. "You can't do anything, you slimeball!"

I gasped in realization. "That's it: Slime! Kiss me, Ray!"

I grabbed the front of his raincoat and planted a big one on him.

Ray stood there, frozen with shock. Slowly, a goofy grin spread across his face and he began to giggle.

Egon and Winston stood there, staring at us in astonishment. Suddenly, Egon's eyes widened in comprehension. "Get those clothes off right now!" he shouted at Winston. He started pulling off his jacket.

"Huh?" said Winston.

"Just do it!" I screeched, tugging off my own coat. Winston shrugged and began to take off his over garments. Then the three of us had to snap Ray out of it and get him to do the same.

After the disrobing, I was standing there in a tank and yoga pants (freezing my butt off in the process), Ray and Egon were garbed in their matching long grey underwear, and Winston was donning some outrageous red long-johns. "Oh God, Ray," he said breathlessly. "What were we doing? I was ready to kill you, man."

"It's the slime," I said. "It was affecting our personalities."

"It's like pure concentrated evil," gasped Ray.

Egon looked up at the building we had surfaced in front of. "All it's flowing right to this spot."

I turned to look too, but I probably could have guessed: The Metropolitan Museum of Art.

* * *

The Ecto-1 pulled up in front of a ritzy, classy looking eating establishment. "Is this it?" I asked.

"Yeah, Peter said Armand's," replied Ray.

We hopped out and marched into the restaurant. "We're just looking," I shot at the maitre d'. He stared at the four of us in basically our underwear, dripping with God knows what.

We tromped through the place, looking for our compatriot. We spotted him sitting with Dana at a table near the center of the room, looking all cozy and romantic. "Venkman!" we started shouting. "Venkman!"

Peter's head, along with all the other heads in the room, turned to look at us. His face paled. "Oh, please tell me this is a bad dream," he groaned.

We rushed over to the two of them. "It was absolutely incredible!" cried Ray. "The greatest tangible evidence of psychic energy in 100 years!"

The manager had joined our little group of nuts and was yelling at us to get out. "This is an emergency, one second," I said, as Ray, Egon, and Winston continued to jabber excitedly about our experience in the tunnel.

"Boys! Boys!" Peter cut in. "You're scaring the straights, okay? Is there anyway we could do this tomorrow?"

"No, no, this won't wait until tomorrow, Venkman!" exclaimed Egon. "It's hot and it's ready to pop!"

"It's all over the city!" said Ray.

"Under it, actually," I added.

"Rivers of the stuff!" Winston declared.

"Yes, and it's all flowing right to the museum," Egon stated.

"Yeah, the museum!" Ray emphatically flailed his arm in gesture, slinging slime on the diners. "Oh. Sorry."

Dana gasped. "Oh, God! You mean, _my_ museum?"

"I was gonna tell you between the dessert and the cheese course," said Peter sheepishly. "You can never go back there again. You're gonna have to find a new job-"

"There they are!" shouted the manager. He had left and we hadn't noticed. But now he was back, and with him he had brought the cops.

"Aw, crap," I groaned.


	11. We Meet Again

Between Egon's befuddling vocabulary and Peter's smooth talk, we convinced the police to take us to see Mayor Hines.

"We couldn't have changed before we left?" I sighed. We were in the Mayor's office, waiting his Highness to show up.

"Sorry, Jenny, but an issue of this magnitude can't wait," Ray replied.

"Okay. But Mayor Hines makes a remark about your long underwear, don't say I didn't warn you."

Speaking of the devil, in walked the mayor. "Lenny! Big man!" Peter exclaimed, as if he and the mayor were bosom buddies or something.

"Oh look. It's the Ghostbusters," groaned the Mayor.

Winston amiably stuck his hand to shake. "Mr. Mayor."

The mayor ignored the friendly gesture and scrutinized us. "What is this? A slumber party?"

"Told you," I said, elbowing Ray in the ribs.

Jack Hardemeyer snickered from his corner. I'd been trying to ignore the dillweed.

We all started talking at once to explain the slime situation, but Hines cut us off. "Look, I don't wanna hear anything about it. You've got two minutes."

Ray cleared his throat. "Ah, well, first of all, Mr. Mayor, it's a great pleasure to see you again; and we'd just like to say that almost fifty percent of us voted for you in the last election."

"I appreciate that," said Lenny flatly.

"I'm just sorry we always have to meet under these circumstances," Peter said.

"Mr. Mayor," Ray continued, "we're here tonight because a psychomagnotheric slime flow of immense proportions is building up beneath the city."

The mayor stared at Ray, mouth slightly agape. "Psycho…what?"

"Psychomagnotheric," Egon repeated. "Negative human emotions are materializing in the form of a viscous psychoreactive plasm with explosive supernormal potential."

I patted him on the back. "Nice try, Egon."

"Does anybody speak English here?" said the mayor frustratedly.

"Uh, your Honor," Winston spoke up, "what we're trying to tell you is that all the bad feelings, I mean the hate, anger, and violence of the city is turning into this sludge! Now, I didn't believe it at first, but we just went for a swim in it and we ended up almost killing each other!"

"This is insane! I mean, do we really have to listen to this?" Hardemeyer blurted.

"Okay, so not _all_ of the slime is underground," I muttered.

Peter turned to Hardemeyer. "Can't you stop your lips from flapping for two little minutes?" Then Pete turned to the mayor. "Lenny, have you been out on the street lately? Do you know how weird it is out there? We've taken our own headcount. There seem to be three million completely miserable assholes living in the tri-state area!"

"Oh, please," grumbled Hardemeyer.

"I beg your pardon, three million and one," added Peter.

"Hey!"

"And what fudgie-brain here doesn't realize is that if we don't something fast, this whole place will blow like a frog on a hot plate!" declared Ray.

"Yeah, right." Hardemeyer rolled his eyes.

"Shut it!" I exclaimed.

"What am I supposed to do?" the mayor asked us expectantly. "Go on television and tell three million people they have to be nice to each other?"

"That wouldn't hurt!" I said. "Personally, I'm sick and tired of my city being known for its crime and grim dispositions. There comes a time when we heed a certain call, when the world must come together as one. There are people dying, and it's time to lend a hand to life, the greatest gift of all!"

The room was silent for a moment. Then Peter spoke up. "That's a Michael Jackson song."

"Crap!" I exclaimed. I had hoped no one would notice that. "Well, the sentiment here is the same: we've got to get together and love one another right now."

"And that's the Youngbloods!" exclaimed Peter.

"Okay, I have nothing!" I admitted.

The mayor shook his head. "Being miserable, and treating other people like dirt, is every New Yorker's God-given right. Your two minutes are up."

And with that, he marched out of the room.

"Great," I groaned. "Well, the Mayor won't do anything. Think we should go to the press?"

"Good idea," said Peter, looking sly. "The _Times_ is gonna be interested and you know the polls-"

"Wait, wait!" said Hardemeyer. "Before you go running off to the newspapers with this, would you consider telling this slime business to some of our people downtown?"

The five of us looked at each other. "Huddle up!" ordered Peter.

We formed a circle. "Okay. What do you think?" whispered Peter.

"Doesn't seem like too nice a guy," mused Ray, "but at least he's interested."

"I must concur. We have to do what's necessary," agreed Egon.

"Well, I wouldn't trust him any farther than I could throw him," I stated. "but I don't see any other option."

"Let's do it!" said Winston.

We straightened ourselves and faced Hardemeyer. "Well? What's the verdict?" he asked.

"It's gotta be done right away," Peter replied.

"I agree," said Hardemeyer. "As soon as possible."

* * *

Little did we know that those "people downtown" were actually doctors from the Parkview Psychiatric Hospital! Obviously, they took the necessary measures when they heard our deluded story. Because truthfully, who'd really believe it?

They pushed down the hall to our cells. Ray struggled against his strait jacket. "This whole city's in danger! The whole state, the whole world! We just want to help!"

"Ray!" I hissed. "It's called a poker face!"

I heard Hardemeyer behind me say to the head doctor, "The mayor wants them kept under strict observation for a few days. We think they're seriously disturbed and potentially dangerous."

I whirled around. "That's a lie! The mayor doesn't even know we're here! We're not crazy, we're scientists!"

"See what I mean?" Hardemeyer shook his head sadly. "They've created this idea that they're parapsychologists or something."

"But we are!" I protested. "You have to listen to us!"

"Young lady," said Hardemeyer with a sneer, "who is this fine doctor more likely to believe: A deluded college student in a straightjacket or a highly respected political servant?"

"More like a Ghostbuster and a bureaucratic stooge!" I retorted.

Hardemeyer sighed and patted the top of my head. "Don't worry. Maybe if you're a good little girl, Uncle Jack can convince the nice doctor here to sign you a clean bill of health."

"Kiss my ass, Hardemeyer," I snarled. "I'd rather stay in here the rest of my life than owe you one!" And with that, I raised my chin and allowed the orderly to direct me to my cell.

Once locked inside, I broke into tears.


	12. Family Ties

If you think the food on an airplane, or in a medical hospital, or in a jailhouse, is the absolute worst cuisine you've ever had to endure, then you've obviously never been committed. All they basically feed you is rice cakes and water through a tube.

It had been almost a whole day since they had imprisoned us in the ward. The orderlies opened my cell, forced me into a pair of scrubs (not that I minded; they were a lot better than the jacket), and led me down the corridor to another room where the doctor and, thank goodness, my brothers were waiting around a table.

"Jenny! We were so worried!" exclaimed Ray.

"Are you alright?" asked Egon.

I nodded. "I'm fine now." I took a seat between the two of them, across the table from the doctor. There was no way I was sitting anywhere near him.

"Alright. What has you nice people all upset?" asked the doctor, as if he were speaking to six year-olds.

"As I explained before," said Ray exasperatedly. "We think the spirit of a 17th century Moldavian tyrant is alive and well in a painting at the Manhattan Museum of Art."

_Yeah, doc_, I thought. _It's just that simple._

"Uh huh, and are there any other paintings in the museum with bad spirits in them?"

"You're wasting valuable time." Egon rubbed the bridge of his nose. "He's drawing strength from a psychomagnotheric slime flow that's been collecting under the city."

_This is not helping our case at all._

The doctor nodded. "Yes, tell me about the slime."

"It's very potent stuff," Winston reported. "We made a toaster dance with it," he gestured to Peter, "and a bathtub tried to eat his friend's baby."

_We're doomed._

"A bathtub?" The doctor stared at Peter expectantly.

Peter shrugged. "Don't look at me, I think these people are completely nuts."

I groaned. The doctor looked up at the noise. "You've been awfully quiet, little one. What do you have to say?"

I gritted. "Sir, I am twenty six years old. I am not little."

"I apologize. So, do you have an opinion?"

Suddenly, an orderly opened the door. "Sir, someone's just come and signed the girl out."

"What?" said the doctor. "Who?"

"Uh…" The orderly fumbled for his clipboard. "The name signed is Wendy D. Colby."

I gasped. "But…that's impossible. What's she doing here?"

"Who is Wendy D. Colby, Jenny?" asked Ray.

I didn't answer. I just followed the nurse out, my mind reeling.

* * *

In the front of the building, after I'd been released, a woman was standing there. She was older than I remembered. But she still had that proud, rich woman posture, and those blue eyes were unmistakable. I knew them well because I saw them every time I looked in a mirror. "Mother?"

A smile crossed her face. She held out her arms and I immediately rushed into them. "God, Mom. It's… it's been forever."

"Yes," she agreed. "Nearly eight years."

"I missed you," I whispered. "What are you doing here?"

She stared at me blankly. "I came to get you out of this horrible place, of course. Why else would I be here?"

"Well, I…I thought you never wanted to see me again after I came to New York."

She laughed. "Oh, darling. Just because a child rebels a little doesn't mean that her mother is going to disown her. What made you think that?"

"You never wrote…you never called."

She shook her head. "Jennifer Ruth Colby, you are such a silly little girl."

"I'm not really a little girl, Mother," I said. "I'm twenty six and I've almost graduated college."

"Yes, well, you've grown into a fine young girl." She smiled, her eyes appraising me. "So, where are your things? We need to pack them up."

The smile dropped from my face. "Huh? Why do we need to pack?"

"Well, dear, I told I was here to get you out of this horrible place and that exactly what I intend to do," she replied.

"And now I'm out." I was starting to get a bad feeling.

She laughed. "You thought I meant the ward? I meant I was bringing you home."

I was stunned. "But why? I've still got to graduate-"

"They'll mail you your diploma."

"-I've got the choir-"

"There's church choir back home."

"But…but what about my job? My friends?" I asked. "I can't leave them behind."

Mother shook her head. "I've been meaning to speak to you about that whole ghost blasting witch voodoo stuff. For one thing, it's sinful-"

"Mom," I cut in. "It's Ghostbusting, and there aren't any witches or voodoo involved."

"And these people you've been hanging around with, Jennifer…I just don't know. They seem like a bunch of weirdos to me."

Oh, no she didn't. "Mother. Egon and Ray and Winston, and yes, even Peter; they're the best friends I've ever had. They understand and they love me for who I am. They accept my flaws. Don't you understand? They're my family."

Mother closed her eyes. "Jennifer, this is silly. Let's just go and get your things."

I shook my head. "No. I'm sorry, but no."

Her eyes flashed. "Jennifer, you are my daughter-"

"And I'm also an adult. My whole life, people have been telling me what to do and have been trying to protect me. You, Daddy, even my friends now. I'm tired of not being able to make my own decisions…you know was the only one who ever respected me, treated me like an equal?" I hated playing this card, but I felt it was my last move left. "Theodore."

Mother's eyes widened at the sound of her dead son's name. She grew quiet. Seeing her like that was like taking a sock to the gut. But I had had to do it.

I turned and walked away.

* * *

At first, I went to the firehouse. It was empty, except for a note on the secretarial desk: _Sitting at Doctor Vee's. –Janine and Louis_

I gave the cabbie a whopper of a tip, then dashed into the apartment building. I took the elevator to the fifth floor, then raced down the hall to the last apartment on the left.

I turned the knob and burst into Peter's apartment. Louis and Janine were sitting on the couch, eyes glued to the TV. They looked up as I came in.

I couldn't help but note that Louis had lipstick smudges all over his face. _Really, Janine?_ I thought to myself. Then I remembered why I was here.

"Louis! Janine!" I exclaimed. "The boys are in the ward!"

They gasped.

* * *

After dropping off Janine at the firehouse, Louis and I sped to the hospital in Ecto-1. "So…you and Janine, huh?" I asked. Louis blushed.

"Hey, you don't have to be embarrassed," I said, smiling. "I think it's great…it's just that…well, I thought that Janine liked Egon."

"Yeah, I thought so too," Louis said. "I asked her about it. She said something like 'Egon's always had his sights set on someone else' or something."

I raised an eyebrow. "You mean…Egon likes someone?"

"I guess so," replied Louis.

I shook my head. "This has been one crazy day…yet I have a feeling it's about to get even crazier."


	13. Libby Gets Slimed

Louis and I, thanks to the consent of our desperate mayor, managed to get the guys released. I hugged each of them tightly.

Louis gave us a full update on what had been going on. Apparently, some ghost had taken Oscar, Dana's baby. "And then he put the baby in a carriage and then levitated away!" Louis concluded.

"Where did Dana go?" asked Peter worriedly.

"Well, she said that she was going to get the baby back! And then there was an eclipse and the whole town went dark and everybody's nuts!" rambled Louis.

"It all fits!" reasoned Ray. "Vigo wants in the twentieth century; he needs a human body to inhabit. Little Oscar must be it!"

"And I bet we're the only ones who can stop it, huh?" guessed Winston.

"You bet we are!" exclaimed Ray. I could tell he was ready for action.

"Let's calcitrate some apparitional gluteus maximus!" Egon shouted.

"Translation please?" asked Peter, looking at Winston.

"Even I didn't catch that one."

"What he means is," I said. "Let's kick some ghost ass!"

"Precisely," agreed Egon.

* * *

Outside the museum, there was a large crowd gathered. We professionally ignored the cheers and focused on the pink goo that had created a shell over the building. "Looks like a giant Jell-O mold," said Ray in awe.

"Get your head out of your stomach, Ray!" I called.

"I hate Jell-O," said Winston.

"Oh come on," grinned Peter. "There's always room for Jell-O."

We pulled on our packs. "Pull 'em," said Ray.

"Full neutronas," added Egon.

"Let's cook!" I yelled.

We let fly our streams, but to no avail. The packs were powerless against the slime. "Aw, save 'em!" sighed Ray as we shut off our packs.

The crowd observed our failure and booed us. I felt a little hurt.

"That slime wall is pulsing with evil," said Egon. "It would take a tremendous amount of positive energy to crack that shell and I seriously doubt there's enough goodwill left in this town to do it."

"You know," said Ray, "I just can't believe things have gotten so bad in this city that there's no way back. I mean sure, it's dirty, it's crowded, it's polluted, it's noisy, and there's people who'd just as step on your face then look at you. But come on! There's gotta be a few sparks of sweet humanity left in this burned-out burg. We just have to figure out a way to mobilize it!"

I nodded solemnly. "Ray's right. It's not like this town's all bad. As a matter of fact, I think it's the greatest city in the world and I'm proud to call it home!"

"Amen!" added Winston.

"Alright, who knows 'Kumbaya'?" Peter asked.

"The time for music is passed," said Egon. "We need something that everyone can get behind. We need-" He looked down at something near the ground for a moment, then turned back to us with that "I've-got-an-idea" look. "A symbol," he finished.

Our eyes followed Egon's to the fender of Ecto-1. "Something that appeals to the best in each and every one of us," said Ray.

Egon nodded. "Something good."

"Something decent," commented Winston.

"Something pure," added Peter.

"Something…New York," I concluded.

There it was on the license plate, right in between 'Ecto' and '1': a tiny picture of the Statue of Liberty.

The five of us shared an inspired look.

* * *

"God! She's incredible!" I exclaimed as I looked up one hundred fifty one feet into the Statue of Liberty's face.

"Kind of makes you wonder, doesn't it?" said Peter.

"Wonder what?" Ray asked.

"Whether she's naked under that toga," answered Pete. I elbowed in the ribs. "What? She's French, you know that," he defended.

"Alright," said Egon, pulling his latest invention out of the Ectomobile. "These are the slime blowers I've been working on. Jennifer, you, Ray, and Winston each take one. Peter and I will go with the packs."

I put on the gigantic tank. "Dang, Egon! Can't you invent something that doesn't weigh a bazillion pounds?"

"Sorry."

We quickly hooked up some speakers around Libby's feet. "Ready with the speakers, Ray," called Egon.

"Okay," replied Ray. "Internal audio set; internal electric set."

"Slimer blower primed and set," said Winston.

"Affirmative," I added.

Peter flounced down from the stairs. "Oh, good slime," he cooed as he patted the side of Winston's blower. "Winston, is our slime in a good mood tonight?"

"I hope so," answered Winston. He turned his eyes to The Woman in Green. "She's a lot bigger than a toaster."

"Let's go, Peter," said Egon, pulling him up the stairs to set up controls.

Peter started speaking into his microphone. "Testing, one, two. How many people here are a national monument, would you raise your hand please?" He looked up at Libby in surprise. "Oh, hello, miss!"

"Peter, get to work," I said, rolling my eyes.

"Let's frost it," said Winston, grinning at Ray and me.

"It's slime time," agreed Ray. We clinked the shooters on our blowers in cheers.

I turned to Libby, point my blower at her. "Say hallo to my little friend!" I exclaimed.

"Fail!" laughed Winston.

"Like you could do any better," I retorted.

We sprayed Libby's feet, outside and in. "Beautiful!" exclaimed Ray.

Soon, the Statue was covered in pink goo. "Libby, you're gonna need a foot bath after this one," I laughed.

We went up into the crown where Egon and Peter had everything set up. "Pilot controls ready," said Egon.

I pointed to the control pad. "Hey, isn't that from a Nintendo game?"

"A man does with what he's got," sighed Ray.

Egon checked his watch. "Alright, it's almost midnight. Let's go, Venkman."

Peter grinned. "I've been waiting for this all night." He grabbed his mike. "Here's something off the request line from Liberty Island!" he shouted, his voice blasting through the speakers. "We're gonna squeeze some New Year's juice from ya, Big Apple!"

"Pete, you're full of it," I snorted.

Peter gave me a look and hit Play on the Walkman. _You know your love…keeps on lifting me…_ Jackie blared out. _Higher and higher!_

We waited in anticipation as the song played on. "Uh, guys?" I said nervously. "Nothing's happening."

Suddenly, the Statue's Torch exploded into flame. "You were saying?" asked Peter.

"I stand corrected!" I exclaimed as a gigantic smile sprung up on my face. "This is awesome!"

Suddenly, there was a loud creak, and the whole room jolted. "Whoa!" I yelled. "Hey, we're moving!"

"Was there ever any doubt?" asked Egon smugly.


	14. Crashing the Party

Lady Liberty stomped down First Avenue. "Gee," I said. "This is the second time we've had some giant thing walking through New York. Think we're in a rut?"

"It's a love-fest, New York!" Peter shouted to the cheering people surrounding the streets below.

"Sing it out!" added Ray.

The people below were going nuts. "What a way to herald in the New Year, eh fellas?" I asked.

"Your love is lifting me high-uuuuuuuuuuur," Peter tried to sing through the mike.

Winston cracked up. "Leave the singing to Jennifer, Venkman!"

Peter scoffed. "Everyone's a critic."

"Happy to oblige, Winnie," I grinned as I took the mike from Peter. I started singing along with the track. It may just have been my ego, but I think the cheering got louder.

"We're running out of time, Ray," fretted Egon.

"Can't she go any faster?" asked Winston.

"I'm afraid the vibrations will shake her to pieces!" replied Ray. "We should've padded her feet!"

"I don't think they make Nikes in her size, Ray," Egon joked.

"Don't worry, she's tough!" exclaimed Peter, patting Libby. "She's a harbor chick!"

Suddenly, there was a great moan as Libby's foot smashed a police vehicle below.

"Sorry!" shouted Ray. "My fault!"

We had reached the museum. Libby leaned over to let us observed that a hole had broken in the slime. "Yes! It worked!" I cheered. "Egon, I love that big, beautiful brain of yours!"

Egon blushed.

Libby slowly raised her torch as if it were a big stick. "I love you when you roughhouse!" yelled Peter huskily.

"Hit it, Mama!" yelled Egon.

"Drop the hammer on her!" added Ray.

"You go, girlfriend!" I cheered.

With a mighty swing, Libby brought her torch crashing down on the museum's skylight.

"Aiiii!" shrieked Poha from below.

We tossed our drop lines into the museum and slid down them. "Happy New Year!" Peter shouted.

"No! Do you know who this is?" screamed Poha, gesturing to the canvas. "Is Vigo! You are like the buzzing of flies to him!"

We all looked at the painting. Vigo had vanished. "Oh Johnny, did you back to the wrong horse?" snickered Peter. "Will you hose him please?"

"With pleasure!" I grinned as I turned on the nozzle to my slime blower.

Slime shot out and wetted poor Poha down. He shrieked and slipped in the goo.

"One down," said Egon.

"On the ground," agreed Ray.

Dana popped out her hiding place, clutching baby Oscar to her. She rushed into Peter's arms. "Boy, am I glad to see you!" She kissed him quickly, then turned to Ray. "Is he dead?" she asked worriedly.

Ray smiled. "Uh-uh. This slime is positively charged. He'll wake up feeling like a million bucks."

"You know, you don't need mood slime for that," I said. "I know a guy who sells happiness on a street corner. It comes in a little bag of white powder."

Winston shook his head.

"Whoa, this gentleman is little bit ripe," said Peter, holding Oscar. "That's all right, my friend. I think I had an accident too."

"Why am I not surprised?" I snorted.

Egon looked at his PKE meter, which had started to chirp ominously. A slight breeze started blowing through the room. I didn't have to be psychic to know something was coming.

Suddenly, I got that all-too-familiar feeling. _No!_ I thought. _Not here! Not now!_

Dana started screaming. The guys rushed over to help, but I was rooted to the spot. I had to fight it-had to!

_You are under my control. You will obey my commands._

I gasped and sank to the floor in a kowtowing stance. "Yes…my lord…" I whispered weakly.

* * *

Third Person

A tube had its way snaked around Dana, restraining her. She struggled against it. The guys rushed over help. "Get the baby away!" Dana shrieked at Peter.

The Ghostbusters were so busy trying to help Dana that they didn't even notice Jennifer sink to the floor.

"Get a knife or something!" yelled Ray. "We gotta cut her out of this!"

Peter, holding Oscar, rushed over to a corner and hid him behind some partitions. "Now listen," Peter said to the infant. "You gotta stay right here and don't move. Uncle Pete's gotta go help your mom. You stay right here and don't say anything, okay?"

Meanwhile, Ray, Egon, and Winston were still trying to cut Dana out of the tube, when all of a sudden, they heard-

"What the hell is going on here?"

They whirled around to find Dr. Alexander Wilcox had stormed into the room. "Alex?" asked Ray confusedly. "What are you doing here?"

"I had to stay late to finish some paperwork. I must've dozed off because the next thing I knew, I was waking up to find all this pink crap oozing through my window. I came down the hall to find maintenance, heard the commotion and came running. Now what happened, Dr. Stantz?" exclaimed Alex. His eyes turned to some point behind the Ghostbusters' heads. "And who is that?"

The Ghostbusters turned around. A large, muscular man with long blonde hair had appeared. "Uh-oh," said Egon. "It's Vigo."

He turned to them and snarled. "Look, buster!" exclaimed Alex, rushing over to the villain. "I don't know who you are or how you got in here, but-"

Vigo grabbed him and threw across the room, luckily into a pile of canvases. His head, however, hit the wall. "Oooooooooooh," groaned Alex. His eyes shut.

"Hold it right there, dead head!" shouted Ray, pointing his slime blower at Vigo. "You want a baby? Go ahead and knock up some willing hellhound! Otherwise I'm giving you three to get back in that painting!"

At that, Winston and Egon pointed their weapons at the beast. "One!" shouted Ray.

Peter popped up from behind the partitions. "Two," he added.

"Three!" cried Ray. The Ghostbusters shot at the beast, but just as they were doing that, Jennifer jumped up and leaped in front of Vigo, shielding him.

"No! Jennifer!" exclaimed Egon. But it was too late to stop the streams from hitting her.


	15. Heroes Again

The shot collided with Jennifer, but instead of frying her, they harmlessly bounced off of her.

"Huh?" said the Ghostbusters.

The reflected shots bounded back and hit their own senders, paralyzing them and sending them to the floor.

The Ghostbusters groaned. "That was really stupid," said Winston stiffly.

"_Bring me the child, my servant_," Vigo commanded Jennifer.

"Yes my lord," she replied in a flat voice. Her eyes were glazed over.

"She's being possessed again!" exclaimed Egon.

"You don't say," said Peter sarcastically.

"Ray!" called Egon. "Can you move?"

"No," groaned Ray. "You okay?"

"No. Venkman? How are you?"

Peter shrugged. "I'm fine."

Jennifer began to slowly shuffle across the room toward Oscar's hiding place. The partitions parted the way for her, revealing Dana's baby. Vigo grinned wickedly as Jennifer picked up the infant and began to bring him to Vigo.

"No! Oscar! Please!" Dana screeched at the Ghostbusters as she struggling against her restraints. "Do something!"

Jennifer handed the baby to Vigo. He laughed triumphantly as he raised the baby in the air.

"Not so fast, Vigo!" shouted Peter. He tried to crawl over to the brute. "Hey, Vigo! Yeah, you, the bimbo with the baby!"

Vigo turned his head toward Peter. "Anybody tell you the big shoulder look is out? You know, I have met some _dumb_ blondes in my life, Jennifer included, but you take the taco, pal!" shouted Peter.

Vigo growled at the man on the ground.

"Only a Carpathian," continued Peter, "would come back to life _now_ and choose_ New York_. Tasty pick…bonehead! If you had brain one in that huge melon on top of your neck, you would be living the sweet life out in Southern California's beautiful San Fernando Valley!"

Vigo had had enough. He hit the Ghostbusters with a blast of energy. They lay on the floor, writhing in pain. "Oh, darn it," muttered Peter. "Oh darn it!"

Vigo raised the baby into the air. "_Now we become one_!" he croaked. Oscar started to wail.

Suddenly, Vigo froze as the sound of singing came from outside. _Should old acquaintance be forgot, and ever brought to mind…_

"Where's that singing coming from?" asked Ray.

"The people outside!" answered Winston.

Vigo cringed at the sound of the music. "He's weakening!" exclaimed Egon. "The singing is neutralizing the slime!"

The Ghostbusters began wriggle. "I can move!" gasped Ray.

Vigo began to look less and less solid. "Oscar!" screamed Dana.

As Vigo disappeared, Oscar fell to the floor and Peter, thankfully, caught him.

* * *

Jennifer

I gasped as I redeemed control of my own body. "Wha-what happened?"

The guys rushed over to me. "Jennifer! Are you alright?" asked Egon.

"I think so," I said cautiously.

Egon pointed to the canvas. "He's back in the painting!"

I looked up to see that Vigo had appeared in the canvas, but he was changing shape from a slightly ugly man to a horrific demon.

"Alright, go find a shady spot," said Peter as he handed the baby to Dana.

Vigo roared. I watched as Ray stared at the painting. His arms went limp and his mouth fell open…just he had the other day.

"Vigie, Vigie, Vigie," scolded Peter. "You have been a bad monkey!"

Ray shuffled in front of the painting, engrossed with it. "Ray," said Egon, "we'd like to shoot the monster. Could you move please?"

"Ray!" called Peter.

"Ray!" shouted Winston.

"Ray!" I yelled.

"NO!" Ray whirled around.

I gasped. Ray had taken on the shape of the demon. "Ray?" I squeaked.

"I, Ray and Vigo, shall rule the earth! Be gone, you pitiful half-men!" roared Ray.

Anger flared up inside of me. "_Nobody hurts my brother_!" I shrieked. I grabbed my slime blower, turned it on full blast, and fired at the creature that had been Ray Stantz.

"Now!" exclaimed Peter. He, Winston, and Egon followed my lead as they fired; Peter and Egon's streams at the canvas and Winston's slime jet joined mine in wetting the beast down.

The demon left Ray's body. He fell to the floor with a crash. Vigo's floating head appeared in front of the portrait, growling and snarling at us. "Let's get it! This one's for Ray!" I shouted.

Vigo groaned as he shrunk into oblivion. The painting exploded as the shell outside vanished.

It was over.

"Ray!" I cried. I raced over to my dear friend. Winston and Egon followed suit and helped me help him up.

Ray was absolutely drenched in the mood slime. "How do you feel?" asked Winston anxiously.

Ray gave a thumbs up, his face was in a daze. "Groovy."

I shook my head. "Ray, what am I gonna do with you?"

Suddenly, I heard groaning from the other side of the room. "Jennifer?"

I turned around. "Alex!" I gasped. I rushed over to him to help him up-he had been lying on some canvases in the corner. I hadn't even noticed him.

"Oh my God," I breathed. "Are you alright?"

Alex rubbed his sore head. "I think I might be after some serious hospital care." He put a hand on my cheek. "Are _you_ okay?"

I nodded, a smile growing on my face. "I am now," I whispered.

I stared into his gorgeous green eyes. He brought his face closer to mine and kissed my lips.

Sigh.

"I love you," I whispered against his lips.

"I love you too," he mumbled back.

Egon had been watching the two of us somberly, but was distracted by Winston's call of "Hey, fellas!"

Alex and I looked up. Winston was standing in front of Vigo's canvas. "You wanna take a look at this?" he said.

We all came over to look at the painting. "Early Renaissance, I think," Egon mused aloud. "Raphael or Piero della Francesca."

"No, I believe it's one of the Fettuccines," joked Peter.

"Whoa," I breathed.

"It doesn't do you justice," Alex whispered to me.

Vigo's painting had been transformed into a portrait of five Greek gods surrounding a little baby floating on a cloud. The gods bore an uncanny resemblance to us, the Ghostbusters!

* * *

The crowd roared as Peter, Ray, Egon, Winston, Dana, Oscar, Alex, and I came outside. "Well, guys," I said grinning. "I guess we've done it again."

Peter turned quickly to Dana. "Dana," he said. "I have a very important question to ask you: do you love me?"

Dana blinked, surprised by the blunt question. "Yes," she said finally. "Yes, I do."

"Good. Because two years ago, I made a horrible mistake by letting you get away. I won't make that mistake again." Peter got down on one knee. "I don't deserve you, Dana, but...will you marry me?"

Dana gasped as a wide smile spread across her face. "Yes, Peter Venkman. I will marry you!"

The crowd cheered as Peter and Dana kissed.

"Aw!" I said. "Isn't that sweet?"

Alex took my hand. "Yeah, it's great."

I turned to him and kissed him passionately. The cheering got louder.

I laughed and turned to the crowd. "Who ya gonna call?" I shouted.

"GHOSTBUSTERS!" The crowd replied.

We were back.

* * *

**Well, Part 2 is ovah! Keep an eye out for Part 3 of the GB+Me series: "We're Gettin' Too Old For This!" New characters, new ghosts, new romances-I'm so excited! I'm gonna start working on it right now! **

**In the mean time, I'm gonna start my new mini-series: GB+Me Forever, a continuation of our friends' adventures. So chao for now!**


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